Mystery Isle
by FinnicksFan
Summary: This story is basically about mistaken identity, evil henchmen, an evil entity, double crossing, a bit of magic, and a possible love interest. This is the first chapter in a trilogy i plan to create! So this story has been written by my friend, and she wants to get her story out there and see what people think! Sooooo if you could review it would be super awesome! -FinnicksFan


The sky was a deep shade of royal maroon, darkened with the paints of cloud and night. A pale, thick mist snaked this way and that, doing what it took its fancy to—coiling itself through trees, pawing curiously at the ground, and turning everything beyond twenty feet to silhouette through its obscuring breath. Everything was utterly still and quiet and. Yet through that surreal world came muted sound; first of heavy hooves clacking at dutifully at the ground. Second, that of an animal's primal panting. And third, a faint bumping through it all.

Through the mist appeared two jaded, extremely fatigued horses, black as pitch in color, their silhouettes somehow bolstering the blackness. The beasts were pulling a heavy carriage behind them, despite the fact it was obvious they weren't prepared for the work; the uneven cobblestones badly maimed their hooves, and they were visibly malnourished. The horses had been roaming around the streets for hours, the carriage driver, whose name was Edna, having gotten lost constantly and needing to find another person to give them new directions, which normally spurred them in the wrong direction. The burnt out kerosene lamps didn't help with visibility, which was fairly limited to begin with, but the poor creatures were forced to clomp on, blindly and gallantly.

Because it was precisely 8:15 pm when James Feller, an orphan since the too-young age of five, was supposed to meet the husband and wife who were considering adopting him. Newton Creeks, the orphanage that housed the wayward boy, had agreed to this because, after taking care of him for eight years, they had long ago grown weary of him, and the feeling was mutual. He had been the first at Newton Creeks, and had resorted to playing tricks on the others to entertain himself, or settle vendettas that had arisen between he and multiple children over the years.

Now, sitting in the carriage, James hoped in his very soul that these people, whether they be kindhearted, fastidious, or even callous, would adopt him. This was his chance to get out of that place after eight long years, and his heart was bumping nearly as often as the carriage was, his mind conjuring up every scenario imaginable. He knew what it would mean if he finally got adopted, what might finally change for the better.

Inside the carriage it was extremely drab, completely contrasting its' well-polished cherry wooded exterior—there wasn't any furnishing, excluding two putrefying wood benches, a door with a lock from the outside, and James. It was a possibility an animal had either died or done its' business in the carriage, as well, although there wasn't enough light to tell if there even was anything or not; however, by the shadows being tossed and bumped, it looked suspiciously as if there were something furry and whiskered in the left corner beside him.

The carriage had been built without any windows, much like old prison transportation, so the only things to give James sight to his surroundings was the solitary, diminutive hole rats had feasted on that weather continually made only larger, and the fissures between the planks that let in what little moon and starlight there was. However, at that moment there was no such aide of light from the sky—it was overcast and dark clouds had fallen so low if you climbed a tree you could touch them. Tonight the only sight given was by odd kerosene lamps scattered on street corners; despite being dim in light they did a surprisingly good job at elucidating the walks of houses, although most of the houses, sadly, were burnt-out shells of the glories once held at the rather larger houses.

Edna took out her pocket watch, glancing at it with the ridiculous hope that the hands had somehow turned back, and she had more time than she did—a short minute to get to the house.

_If that ain't enough…_ She thought to herself.

In the cabin, James was twiddling his thumbs. He was a young looking boy aged thirteen, with toffee brown, large eyes that had seen far too much for his age, and dark brown hair that curled beneath itself ever so slightly at the nape of his neck. Multiple bones had broken over the years that had never healed correctly; and at the moment, he had a sprained wrist. It wasn't anything major, but enough for him to not be able to carry anything heavy. 

Then, violently, the carriage rattled to a halt, causing it to lunge forward with momentum before settling to a halt.

"Ma'am? Ma'am? Have we arrived?" He asked, though even if Edna had really heard him, she wouldn't have paid James any sort of attention, even if the carriage were on fire. A heavy _clomp _broke the silence in two_, _then a second later a rhythmic _clomp, clomp, clomp, clomp_ rang out in the air_._ They'd arrived. James knew it before he heard the breathing of the woman, before the lock clicked into place, before the door had opened.

"We have arrived. You are to be nice to the couple." Edna said coolly. She was in a worse mood than usual. "Especially nicer to them than how you are to the orphanage owners. Or the other children."

"I understand. I won't cause any disruption in the house as I do in the orphanage." James's voice was just as stiff as his clothing was, though the two had both agreed prior to leaving the orphanage to stay civil for the night.

"Good, now, let's go and introduce you to the couple. No need to keep them waiting."

They reached the front way, she rapped at the door. Once, twice, three times.

"Stand straight!" Edna hissed into air as they heard footsteps coming. James did as he was told.

In the few seconds that they had left alone on the front way, James looked around, though the darkness didn't help him observe his surroundings. What he did see was that the house was three stories—an obvious sign that they had money to spare. Also, the house was an elegant though meek Victorian building, and along the walk leading up to the door, there were neatly trimmed bushes. The walk itself was made of brick. The lawn was well-maintained, without weed or brown grass, and was about a third of an acre. Trees were placed about intervals around the property, and when they reached their full height would block out most sunlight coming from the sides, keeping the sparse amount from above.

The door was painted red, and above it had the name 'Alderman' engraved on a piece of silver metal. On the door was an elaborate knocker on which was a carved metal lion. It was from this that the cab driver had rapped upon the door. As far as James could tell the house was, very surprisingly, narrow; for on opposite both sides of the door were two windows, filled with light, letting people from outside see in. From what they both could see, for Edna too was looking in, it was shockingly quaint.

Suddenly, the door opened, and appearing before them was a man in his mid to late thirties. He was dressed handsomely, in a velvet, and clearly expensive, royal blue shirt, and black polyester breeches. His face looked, odd, having rather high cheekbones for man, and his features were just as odd looking. His eyes were an off yellow, the pupils black. The man wore spectacles on the tip of his nose. The man's nose itself was pointed downward and became narrower as it continued downward, it already being quite narrow between his eyes, giving the impression of a beak going on forever.

His mouth was a thin, pink line from his age-speckled face, copper as though he spent a great deal of his time outside in the sun, which he did. The man was a slight hunchback from leaning over his books in the summer warmth, which was why the wife had insisted on putting in the trees. His hair was black, though gray was sprouting from his forehead and temples; getting wiry with age. Then he spoke.

"Hello. You must be James. And I'm presuming that you are the carriage driver? Edna, if I remember correctly." The man spoke with an American accent. James did a double take. He spoke so informally, so unlike his class, almost as though he saw eye to eye with the poor, the poor that were so common amongst the towns, nearly the entire kingdom. The man regarded James with a warm smile and stuck out his hand.

A rather weak, "Hullo," was all that James could manage to get out. He shook the man's hand awkwardly, unsure if he should bow when the shake was done or not.

Then, the man turned to Edna, took her ham-like fist and sausage-like fingers in his, and gave her hand a quick kiss, as though she were royalty. This made her face turn barn-door red. She emitted a giggle that was so shrill it could very well have been a squeal from a four hundred pound pig getting fed its swill.

"Come in, come in. Please. And James, you must be hungry." Edna shoved her way in first, and James waited, reluctant to cross into the threshold of luxury.

"What manners you have!" The man exclaimed after both were inside the house. "Do you like our house?" The man startled James with the question, for he hadn't been expecting him to speak again. It surprised him moreover when the elder said, 'our house.'

"Yes. You're very rich." James said, as it was the first thought that jumped into his head. He found himself blushing.

"Don't worry," He said, noticing James's blush. "I am very rich, and am not offended by the comment."

"What I meant to say was that I do like your house. It seems very… expensive. In a good way. Very fancy. Elegant." By then, James was just saying whatever seemed to fit the house.

"My name is Mr. Alderson, and I am the owner of this home."

Abruptly, footsteps echoed through the house, coming from a room to the right, and all three turned their heads to the noise.

"David?" A voice called from about two rooms away. The footsteps didn't stop. "Are they here yet?" Just then, a woman, not dazzling nor ugly, came into their view.

"I think that question can answer itself." Mr. Alderson answered. The woman gave a big grin and looked directly at James.

"Hullo. I see that you must be James. You're just a few minutes early. Why don't you go into the dining room and wait a few more minutes. Dinner is nearly ready." Then, realizing that James still had on his coat said, "James, why don't you put your coat on the hook?" The woman suggested, motioning to a coat rack nailed on the wall to his right.

"Of course." James replied after having realized he'd not answered her.

"Such a polite young lad you are. My name is Eve, David's wife. But, I can tell that you're bright. You probably guessed that I'm his wife, hadn't you." For some odd reason, James's mouth went dry. He had to swallow before answering her.

"Yes, I had guessed. So, what have you cooked for dinner? It smells," He paused, thinking that 'lovely' was a word only a girl would use. "perfect." Eve glowed at that.

"Why, thank you. We're having rabbit stew. Of course, I just cleaned up the bloody mess they made when I slaughtered them." James only for a moment had to stare, for she burst into laughs. Realizing it was a joke, he shrugged off his coat and hung it up, smiling to himself.

"Pardon my wife's humor. Sometimes it's a little more grown up than what some would want."

"That's fine. I've heard things far worse than her humor." James said, feeling completely at home. To this remark, Edna glared at him, forgetting the civility of the night, but the look went unnoticed.

"I should hope that you haven't." Eve said, and James shrugged.

"So where do we eat?" Edna asked, wanting to draw attention away from the boy, thirsty for attention.

"Please, follow me." Eve said brightly. With that, she turned her back on the group and strode off into the deeper recesses of the house. They all trailed behind, in no particular line, David going first, then James, then Edna.

"David," David actually turned around, which surprised James.

"Is her cooking really good?"

David grinned and let his wife answer, knowing she would.

"Best food you've ever had!" Eve called as she had exited into the kitchen.

"I haven't tasted such great food in my lifetime."

"Hopefully hers will be the better half."

"I'm sure that it will." David and James both laughed just to laugh.

Just then they entered the dining room. It was rather self-effacing for such a rich couple, but as James was beginning to learn, this couple might have money just in case anything should happen, if they should need it, but they used it sparsely.

The first thing that caught the guests' attention was the fact that there was an oak table in the middle of the room. The table itself wasn't anything special, with just five oak chairs systematically placed around the circle table, five bowls and spoons placed at each chair. But what quickly tore the attention away from the table was that above it hung suspended a chandelier. It was irregular in shape, with six places to hold small candles, then a spot to hold a large one. David caught the two staring up at it in near awe.

"That's one of the better of my wife's creations." Then a voice spoke from behind them, startling even David.

"It took me a better part of the year to make that. It was the first and last time I attempted to do anything with glass. Sorry to have startled you." They all turned to see Eve, carrying a largish pot of stew, so hot it was sending up steam in the air. It smelled positively wonderful.

"Wow," Was the only word that James could say.

"Sir," He asked David, who turned to him with the same grin that seemed to be forever plastered to his face. "I'm terribly sorry if this comes across as a stupid question, but," David interrupted with a laugh.

"James, there isn't such a thing as a stupid question. You can never ask too many." David opened his mouth to speak more, but knowing that he rather enjoyed giving speeches, Eve cut him off.

"Please, David," Eve said with a laugh. "Let James finish." Then turning to James said, "I'm sorry, but my husband interrupts people more often than you would think possible. Go on."

"Thank you. Um, would you mind terribly if I asked you two questions?" The question was aimed at David, who was edging his way to the table and, with a look from Eve, sat down, the others doing the same. James took the spot across from David.

"Not at all, boy. Without questions, who would get answers that one might need?"

_I didn't know that people _enjoyed_ getting asked questions. I wonder how terrible the orphanage really is. I always thought the orphanage was bad, but could it be that much worse? _ Then he realized that he hadn't answered David.

"True. The first question is really about questions themselves." James paused.

_Is the boy looking at me for permission to speak? _David thought to himself, slightly troubled.

"Well, ask away James." David said, forcing a smile onto his face. It was the tone in the elder's voice that James mistook as impatience. His face heated and not wanting to further irritate the man, rambled off his words that came across too fast for David's rather slow ears to pick up. He gave an easy, encouraging laugh.

"I couldn't catch your words. Please, I'm getting rather old," James took this as impatience and opened his mouth to say, 'never mind,' when Eve stepped in.

"David, I do believe that your ears are getting older and older by the day. The boy said, if this is indeed correct, for I couldn't make out a few of the words, 'There isn't such a thing as a stupid question?' Is that right, James?" Eve asked, turning to face the boy, who nodded. At this, despite himself, David began to laugh.

"Why, who told you that?" He asked, intrigued as to who would have such a daft mind.

"Edna," James said, pointedly turning in his seat to look at her, and then turning back to face David. "And the owners of the orphanage, and all the children at the orphanage." At this, it was Eve who became rather concerned.

"Is that so?" She asked.

"Yes." James answered ingenuously, as though it were obvious. That worried them both.

"Do you remember your second question?" Eve asked. James nodded, feeling as though he was rather safe around Eve, who was turning out to be the complete opposite of Edna.

"I counted five bowls and spoons, but, for that I can see, there's only four of us. If you don't mind my asking, why is that?" Eve smiled warmly to the question.

"Why, it's because my father lives with us. He sometimes accompanies us for dinner, though most nights he stays in bed." James saw a flicker in her eyes, something that he'd felt oh so many times…

"He's old, isn't he?" James asked and, his curiosity getting the better of him, continued, hesitantly now. "Your father is sick in bed. He's not doing well. You think he may, may," He trailed off. "Oh, I'm sorry. I've heard the word before, but can't think of it right at the moment."

"Could it be die?" Eve asked, and James picked up from her tone that he'd gone too far. He felt the sting of tears in his eyes, but blinked them back for a little, although he knew he couldn't keep them at bay for long.

"I'm sorry," James said lamely.

"Don't be. It isn't your fault. He'd been in poor health for most of his life. He's bitter. He's quite disrespectful of David. I just say these things to make it easier to except what's going to be coming soon."

"I know how it feels. And I'm sorry for what you're going through. If I can do anything to help, please don't hesitate to let me know."

"Thank you, James. I'll do that."

"Hey!" David said suddenly. "Why don't we get out some grog."

"I think that James is a bit too young for grog, don't you think, David?"

"Fine, maybe he's a little young." He said with a pause, cupping his chin in between his left hand thumb and index finger. "My first taste of grog was at nine, but that was definitely too young, even for someone like me."

"That makes sense." James said, and after that, no one had anything to say, so the room lapsed into a hollow silence.

The only thing that broke it of was the sounds of their spoons clicking the china, and the slurping of soup. James ate most greedily, though he remembered to keep his manners.

When the last person finished—which happened to be Edna, as she rather greatly detested soup—Eve gave everyone a warm smile.

"Well, seeing as everyone is done here, who has room for dessert?" At this, James perked up, as did David, as did Edna, though she was just grateful to get the taste of rabbit out of her mouth.

"What are you serving?" James asked.

"Apple pie. I was hoping for berry, though those incommodious birds have been picking all the bushes and trees clean." David noticed the look on James—as well as Edna's—faces.

"Incommodious means troublesome." Eve said, then added, "It's one of David's favorite words."

"Oh," James said, then turned to Eve. "Did you learn all of those big words from David?" Eve laughed as she began to stand and move to the kitchen.

"Well, most of them. But, my mother and father also taught me some. Others I've picked up myself." James nodded.

"What sort of an apple is this?" It was Edna who asked this.

"A green apple." Edna gave a scowl as Eve left the room.

"Never given a taste to those things."

"Oh, stop being so bitter. You're just like that coffee that I made you." James said with a laugh.

Just then Eve came back in the room, carrying the pie in two hands.

"Okay, who's hungry?" She asked cheerily.

"I don't think that anyone could be _hungry _after your meal." David said with a laugh.

"True, true." Eve said, coming over to the table and, after setting her precious pie down, began to clear the table.

"Let me help you with that!" James exclaimed out of impulse, and began to stand.

"Oh no. Please, I'm fine. Sit down." And after a few more persuading words, James sat down, slightly upset that he didn't get to help, but grateful not to have the job. In a matter of two minutes, the table had been reset, forks and all, and Eve had made the first cut into the pie. She served everyone, then Mr. and Mrs. Alderson waited until the two guests took their first bites. After eyeing the pie with suspicion, Edna took a tentative bite, to find she rather enjoyed it. She had gotten served first. James waited patiently for Eve and David to be severed and take their first bites. And waited.

"Aren't you hungry, James?" Eve asked him with a cock of her head.

James smiled. "Yes, but, I'm waiting for you two to eat."

"James, you're our guest. _We've_ been waiting for _you_ to eat your first bite." James felt his face heat to a million degrees, but managed a small, embarrassed smile, picked up his fork, and dug into the piece of pie that he had been tantalizing for the past few minutes.

When he took a bite, it was decidedly the very best thing that he'd tasted in his entire life. It was tart and sweet and crunchy and soft all at the same time.

He swallowed then said to Eve, "This is the best thing I've ever tasted." Eve simply glowed at the compliment.

"That's a very kind thing to say. Thank you James." He nodded. Then Eve and David ate their slices, James nearly as quickly devouring the rest of his pie slice. After they had all finished their meal, Edna gave a forced grin.

"It was very kind of you to have us stay here, though we'd best be on our way." She said, excusing herself. James gave a half smile and stood up, following the leave of Edna. In his wake went David and Eve, following the two to the front door.

James and Edna took their coats off the hook just as the Alderman's where coming into the front room. James spoke first.

"Thank you very much for having us. I do hope that you adopt me."

Apart from that, they all walked in silence until they got back to the carriage. It was David whom spoke.

"We will be seeing you at our residence in two fortnights at most James." James managed a feeble smile.

"Thank you for all you have done for me."

"It's not a problem at all."

David said, opening up the carriage door, then looked inside and had to force himself not to recoil, not to gag from the smell of it.

"Have a nice trip back to Newton Creeks." He managed as James got inside. The coach door was closed, then Mr. Alderman took off briskly back to the pleasant smells of his house. As David was walking past the trees and bushes that lined the walk, he didn't notice a rustling, didn't notice two pairs of eyes, bigger than a squirrels, peering out at him. After the front door had closed, Edna got up from the driver's seat and locked James in.

After a few more minutes, Edna had gotten back into her seat and flicked the reins. James sat coach, noticing for the first time how terrible it smelled.

The carriage began to _bump-bump_ again.

James began to smile. It was a small one, one that just showed, but it was a smile nonetheless.

After that, the smile dropped to the floor, replaced by the ever-present frown that he wore.

As soon as the carriage door had been locked and an old, craggy woman had gotten into her seat, two burly men had risen from their hiding place on the ground with rather stiff knees. They had been there since the carriage had arrived at the house, looking at the boy whom they had been sent to take. Their orders had been strict: Get the boy, kill anyone else in sight. These two men where toughest, roughest, biggest set men that The Man had in his possession, as The Man did rather own the men he set after James. The carriage was facing away from them, though that didn't bother the two men.

Along with being the toughest, they were also the fastest of all the men who worked for The Man. As well as that, the horses looked old and tired, and certainly wouldn't be able to pick up speed very fast. Then, the thicker set of the two men turned and looked at his partner.

"We follow the carriage to the main road and then," He didn't need to finish as he smashed his fist into his palm. The other laughed, sounding close to threatening.

"I hope that we do get to crack some heads." Said the one who had laughed.

"We will. Come on!" The first exclaimed, hearing the crack of the reigns. The one who'd laughed paused, then took pursuit of his friend.

"Should we kill them Alderman's?" He asked. The one who'd been walking stopped and looked over his shoulder at his partner.

_This is why we ain't never bein' friends. Dumb as a tin can, he is. _Thought the first one.

"The Man wants 'em 'live, for the time being. Too much blood on our hands, and eventually ya can't wash 'em off good enough." His partner nodded, and they both set off at a jog—which was an easy run to most untrained people—after the carriage, gaining ground each second.

Back inside the carriage, James sat. Then, he began to feel slightly nauseous.

He stood, or rather nearly stooped, and tried the door, to find it was locked.

_David must have latched it. Him or Edna. _Thought James, and this made him even more worried. He then walked over to the hole the mice had chewed through and peered out, to find they had turned onto the main road. As he was peering out at the gas lamps and such, two blurry, black objects streaked by the hole, going too fast for James to get a good look at the figures.

_I wonder who that was. The two, men—women can't run that fast—I wonder who they are. _James no sooner had thought this when two things happened nearly simultaneously.

The first thing was that the horses whinnied and reared up, seeing two dark figures suddenly appear in front of them. This caused the carriage to jerk back, and Edna to curse, loudly. It was a rather indignant curse, even for a man to be uttering, let alone a woman.

The second, and perhaps more important thing was that, when the horses had reared up and thrown the carriage backward, it caused James to be, with startlingly great force, thrown back into the far wall, his head hitting first, followed by his back, and his right arm—_again!_—to be at an unfamiliar angle, causing a white hot pain to jolt through his entire arm, hand included, before intensifying and settling on his shoulder, and though it wasn't broken, it felt as though it was. But James couldn't focus on that. From hitting his head on the wood so hard, James also felt a pain surrounding mainly the back of his skull like a cushion, making it feel ten times its size, and he just couldn't focus correctly. He fell to the floor on his hands and knees, too weak to stand up.

Had James been more than just half-conscious, he would have heard the struggle, the words, going on outside.

"What do you think you are doing?" Edna demanded to the people who were standing just in front of the carriage, blocking her view .

Neither of them answered her.

"I asked you a question. What do you think you are doing?" The bigger of the men came forward without a sound. Edna opened her mouth yet again to really give them a piece of her mind, but before she could, in one fluid motion, the man pulled a knife from the inside of his cloak and had cut the reins free.

The man with the knife said, without looking over his shoulder, "Get the boy, then set the carriage and coach on fire. I'll knock the woman out." His orders were immediately obeyed by his much more stupid partner, who scurried off to unlock the cabin. The man holding the knife began to climb up the two steps leading to the carriage seat. Edna backed down a step.

"Listen here," She said, rather calm. "We ain't have any money, if that's what you've come to been look'n for. And if you want to kill the boy, I hate 'im much as the next person do."

"Sorry man, but my orders are to kill." The man holding the knife advanced two steps, Edna backing down, but missing the step and falling into the dirt on her butt.

"Man?" She squawked. "Man! Sir I assure you that I be a _wo_man!" The man holding the knife walked down the two steps and squatted next to Edna, who scuttled away from him, but he was too swift for her. Without saying anything, he gave her a punch to the jaw, and she was out like a light. It was then that he saw smoke being emitted from the coach, his partner holding a nonplussed, glassy-eyed looking boy by the wrist.

"Time to go. The boat leaves at nine forty five. We've got an hour." And with that, the man set Edna into the carriage seat, to be later consumed by the flames, still in blissful unconsciousness.

James sat on the floor of the carriage and listened to what was going on. He'd been able to drag himself up into a sitting position on the musty ground, trying with little success to get his bearings, when the coach door opened. He turned to see a burly man standing in the doorway.

"Who are you?" James asked the man. The words came out slurred and blended together, sounding as if he were on grog because of the head injury. The man just shook his head and grabbed the poor boy by the right arm, taking care for him not to fall to the ground. In the next second, he let go of James, who sank to the ground, feeling very confused by now as to what was happening.

"Time to turn this ol' thing into flame." The man muttered to himself, and pulled out a flask of _something, _putting it into the coach, then pulling out a matchbook and lighting it, throwing the torching stick onto what had passed as the seat. The entire inside was quickly enveloped in flame.

With that task done, the man dragged James to his feet and lead him to his partner.

"Time to go," He said.

_Where are we going? _James wondered, and quickly got his answer.

"The boat leaves at nine forty five. We've got an hour." And with that put the lady in laying on the ground on the carriage seat. The two men set off at a brisk pace, having to hold James by the arm, or else he'd have tumbled to the ground.

_Are we going to the docks? _James wanted to ask, but found he couldn't get the words out. So, he settled for looking at the scenery, which was increasingly less vacated and run-down.

This kept up for about an hour when they finally smelled something. It was reeking of dead fish and salt. With a shock, the smell brought James back to his senses: Where he was, what had happened the past few hours, and, most importantly, what was happening now. The two men, noticing the perk of his head and his now alert eyes, grabbed for their knives.

"You say anything and you're dead Edwin." The name didn't make any sense to him, and at first James didn't realize the two men were talking to him.

"What did you just call me?"

"Edwin. Now come _on_," Said the man on the right of him, suddenly sounding urgent, though masking it by talking through his teeth. "The boat leaves in a few minutes!"

With that, they entered into the town. It was lined with shops, bakeries, taverns, and inns. Taking a leap of faith, both men let go of James's arm, though kept an eye on him. James didn't try to run, knowing that any effort to flee would be a waste of what little energy he had left.

"Come on," The other partner muttered as he started off, and the one on the boy's right, now behind him, punched him in the back to jostle the boy. It worked. James startled, then walked. He thought about calling for help, but knew that would be as wasteful as trying to run away. On the boardwalk, there were a few couples looking out at the sea and boats. Others stumbled, drunkenly and aimlessly, about. One was losing his dinner behind a tavern. The two men spoke in low voices, pretending that James wasn't there but at the same time keeping a very close eye on him.

"It's in the bakery, right?" The one in front of James asked.

"Yes, Earl. The spot hasn't changed. You are such a tin-head."

"I ain't a tin-head." Earl muttered.

"Think this is Edwin's last attempt?"

"Obviously," Earl crowed, a sudden glee in his voice. "The Man will kill him after this."

"Who's The Man?" James asked. The other man whapped him on the back of the head.

_ "Don't be a tin-head," He muttered. Then said to Earl, "In there," With a motion of the head,_ the man gestured to a bakery shop, and the two walked inside, Earl keeping James in tow.

"Two carrots and a cow, please." James had never in his life heard such a phrase before, and found it even more odd that they should be used in a bakery. But, the woman at the counter understood what had been said, and nodded to an unmarked door to the trio's left.

"Watch him," Earl muttered. The woman nodded. She had beady, glaring eyes that made thick lines across her forehead. Her face was completely round, arms three inches wide before it curved around to the back of her arm. She had a portly, bulging stomach. The door behind them opened and then closed.

"Please, help me!" James exclaimed in a hurried, harsh whisper. "Those pirates, they,"

The woman cut him off with, "You think that I care about that? I don't stick my nose in other people's business." Her voice was sharp like a bird's holler and sentences were clipped.

"I'm going to be adopted morrow. Please. Don't let them take me." The woman only shook her head. James felt panic rise up in him, and looked to the door.

"Don't be an idiot, Edwin." James put his head in his hands. He was crumbling inside.

_How?_ He thought to himself. _How can this be happening?_ And just then, the door opened and shut a second later. James didn't even have to turn around to feel the two's presence in the room.

"Did he behave?" The man asked.

"Oh, Greg," The woman moaned. "He was awful. He tried to get at me."

"What?" James sputtered. H couldn't believe what he was hearing. "I did not! I didn't! She's lying!"

The woman continued. "He tried to attack me, said that I was just as guilty as you two were. Said that I needed to die. Please Greg. Please take him away before he hurts me. Before the devil of him hurts me." The woman pleaded. James turned around as he sensed a hand come down at him. Greg's meaty fist, equivalent to the size of a small ration of ham, caught him, cuffing him hard on the ear. James winced and gave a hiss of pain.

"We'll discuss this later," Earl muttered. "We need to catch the boat." Greg gave a cuss that even a sailor would turn his bread to.

"Better hope you can run." He said, "Because if we don't catch this boat, you're food for the fish." And with that, Greg grabbed James's wrist and began to run.

A man named Ciless stood on a gangway, separating the land from the sea. Watching, waiting, with an ever-growing impatience. He was waiting for three specific people. Two of them men in their late forties. One boy of fourteen. It was the plan. It was the simple plan that would obviously work. It had to. Otherwise, all of their lives were in even more jeopardy than they usually were. Of course, not that it scared them. They had been born and breed of evil. Fear had not set a tendril on them since they had been born. The groaning squeak of too-old wood rang out in the night.

"Ciless," It was the captain of the ship that had spoken. "We should be heading off now. We wouldn't want to be late getting to our homes, and the journey takes a few months."

"I'm aware." Ciless said, dully. His voice had hollowed out over the course of the week that he had been sent to the awful place named Belgium. The captain, Ted, had stood for it the first few days, but by now had grown too weary of it.

"Ciless, what is going on? You've been getting more and more empty over the past week." The captain had genuine concern in his voice, which was a surprise to the man.

He said the first thing that jumped into his mouth. "My wife wishes me ill. She wants me to die at sea. That's why she forced me to sail with you. I mean you no disrespect, sir," He turned to look at his superior, "I suppose that I just am not happy about being at sea for no real reason for the next few months." Ted didn't understand what Ciless was feeling.

"I'm sorry that your wife dislikes you." Ted said, lamely. He had never had a wife or child, and didn't know how it felt to be detested by one.

"Her doing isn't the fault of you."

Ted nodded, saying, "You had better get onboard. I'm going to raise the gangplank."

"I hate to ask a favor of you, sir, but, a two friends of mine, one with their son, are trying to get to a better life. They were hoping to ride with you. They're perfectly willing to work and earn their keep."

Ted pursed his lips in thought. "We could ration our food a bit smaller, I suppose." He said thoughtfully.

"I am indebted to you, Captain."

"Call me Ted, for the Lords sake."

"Alright then. Ted. Thank you."

"Of course. Anything to help a friend."

"I will owe you forever for this." Ciless said, and shook Ted's hand.

"You have no obligation to repay me. You are a friend, and a friend of yours is a relative of mine."

"Thank you again for this."

"Just tell me when they get onboard."

"That is the least that I can do." And as Ted turned his back on Ciless, the man gave a grim smile, knowing exactly what he could do in the weeks following.

James had been running as fast as his legs would allow for ten minutes, and the end of the pier was in sight. Earl and Greg had changed into silks and top-hats, and that's what they had went into the room with the door for back at the bakery. The two had been dragging James by the wrist and yanking him forward if he fell behind more than five paces. It happened often, the two men being a good five inches than the poor boy. His arm was quite sore by now and his silks quite damp.

"This is the boat." Earl said, pointing to it. It was quite a large thing, with people all in the same wear scuttling about on the deck and on the ropes. They were clearly just about to cast off. James thought to himself that he could possibly call for help, and must have let it show on his face.

"If you try anything you're dead." The voice came from Earl as both released his arms. They walked up to a man standing on the lip of the dock. He gave the two men a nod and an evil smile, and they returned the gesture.

"Good evening, Ciless." Greg said with a smile turning the corner of his lips.

"A good evening it is, Greg. Come just up this way." Ciless said, gesturing up the gangway.

"You remember the story?"

"Of course."

"Good," And with that the trio walked to the gangway, accompanied by the new man.

"Where are you taking me?" James demanded to the man named Ciless as they took the first step onto the boat, the first step into the point of no return. Terror was building in his stomach, and quickly changing the pitch of his voice.

"Back were you've come from of course." Greg muttered.

"And where might that be, then?"

"Sweden, you tin-head. Now stop pretending to not know a thing and move it!" Ciless had a high voice when he was angry, and right now, it rose a full octave and a half.

_I haven't even heard of Sweden! _He was in a panic by now.

"But I—." Earl cut James off.

"It's The Man's orders! We need to respect them, you need to follow them!"

"Who's The Man? I've never heard of him." James said, confused and worried.

Greg cuffed him again and said angrily, "I've told you to stop pretending as if you don't know a thing about any of this, about any of your life. For this stunt, you're going down to the dungeons once we reach Sweden at the very least!" James started at the word 'dungeons.'

"Sweden. That isn't near Antwerp, is it?" Antwerp was a small, off the map town where Newton Creeks was located.

It couldn't be more than seven, six, five more paces until they stepped onto the boat as they made their way up the gangway.

"Why do you think that we're going on a boat?" Ciless demanded. Then he said, as though James weren't even there, "He's more a tin-head than you, Earl! Smarter, he was, before he made his escape!" Earl smirked.

"Yep! I think that," Then he paused, thinking back on what his second partner had said. "You said, 'More of a tin-head than you'! You think that I'm as smart as a tin-head?" Earl's voice grew loud and irritated. James didn't listen then. He was thinking desperately of a way to escape. There was a shop, an alehouse named Lucky Winger, about a hundred yards from where they were standing. If he could just turn around and run for it…

Earl noticed what James was doing and leaned in close to whisper something in his ear.

"If you try to run for it, Edwin, you'll feel our knives!" Then, Earl pulled back his cloak, revealing where the knife was hidden. He really wasn't joking, either. It was resting in his belt, his belt acting as a sheathing case of some sort. It was dark, so James couldn't see much of the knife, but he knew—_knew—_that it was long and sharp.

As thoughts billowed out across his mind, dulling his senses, James didn't notice that they were no longer on the gangway, but on the boat.

"Ted, my friend!" Ciless called out, and waved someone over to them. Greg leaned in and whispered harshly in James's ear, "I'm your father." His heart stalled and then started up again. "I'm your father. You got that? If you think about asking anyone for help on this thing, we kill the captain. Got it?"

"Yes," James said, trying to keep his voice low and even.

"You can go as you please for the moment." Greg let go of James's arm just as Ted came over to them.

"Hello. You must be Ciless's friends. Welcome aboard my vessel. I proudly call it the Amos."

"A lovely name." Earl agreed with a nod.

"Have a nice time on it. We're bound for America."

"Alright," Greg said with a nod. Ted went back to the wheel, and when no one was looking, Ciless took James by the arm and dragged him into the hold.

"You stay down here. You call for help, I hear it, and everyone here dies."

It was when the metal slammed down on the wood that James was sealed to his fate. And it was here that James realized only much too late where they were. It was too late for an escape, too late to give a cry for help, too late to do anything except accept his fate, deal with the fact that he wouldn't soon be going back to the life he once had so close in his hand, _so close…_

"Stay here or else!" Earl's partner said, interrupting his horrible thoughts.

"Ain't like he's going anywhere," Earl jibbed. "Door to the hold's goanna be locked and guarded. Doubt he can turn invisible!" The boat had obviously housed animals, based on the smell of it. Atop that, there were deep gouges in the wood, which were clearly not human.

With a heavy heart, James sat down on the ground, and within minutes was crying, weeping, his head buried in his now grimy hands.

James wept for many reasons. He wept for Edna—horrible as she had been, she didn't deserve burning to death. James wept mainly for himself, though. He wept because a future so bright, so close—_oh so close!_—had been yanked away from him. He wept because he knew he'd never get that sort of a chance to live a life as the Alderman's did again.

James wept because on that night, no less than an hour ago, every single one of his dreams, all that he lived for, had just gone up in flames. And it was on that night that his life had undoubtedly forever changed.


End file.
